


For the Wretched and the Divine

by StarCola



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, more tags/characters as they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22834384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarCola/pseuds/StarCola
Summary: Lady Luxanna meets the infamous Jinx while her King holds court - just as the criminal is sentenced to death.(Is Demacia technically medieval anyway? Probably. Do I care? No.)
Relationships: Luxanna "Lux" Crownguard & Jinx, Luxanna "Lux" Crownguard/Jinx, lightcannon - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	1. Drawing Last Breath

It wasn't the _worst_ cell Jinx had been in, but it was probably going to be the last.

She kicked at the wall idly, just for something to do. How long had they left her down here? No sunlight touched her spot in the dungeon, and maybe she could have kept time by the guard patrols, but she didn't really care to. Her usual jailbreak buddy had bailed on her weeks before her latest exploit; there was no point in counting the days until her freedom.

Still, it could be worse. At least she was going out on a high note - a destructive heist for the ages. Minstrels would sing of it for years to come. She may die, but her legacy would live on forever.

Gods, she was bored. She kicked the wall harder with the heel of her boot. The sound reverberated hollowly around the cell, filling the silence. In earlier years, she might have kicked every stone she could, trying to find a weak point to exploit. A secret passage out. No point in it now, though. Demacian architecture wasn't exactly known for being tricky. But at least the cell was clean. Win some, lose some.

Footsteps, then torchlight. She didn't stop kicking the wall when four guards stopped in front of her cage.

"Up," one of the torch-bearers commanded. He was tall, wide, and had a couple facial scars that he was probably a little too proud of. Jinx gave them all a once-over. Well-armored, every one of them visibly armed, and all probably twice her weight. Not that that was really an accomplishment.

"An armed parade for little ole me?" She bat her eyelashes. "I'm certain that's not overkill."

"Run your mouth while you can." This one was shorter, barrel-chested, and apparently couldn't groom his facial hair if his life depended on it. "It's judgement day for you, rat."

"Funny, now that you mention it, there are far less rats down here than I'm used to. I miss having prison pets."

"Up," Scar Face repeated, more steel in his voice. No sense of humor. Jinx rolled her eyes and rose. Scar Face lifted the torch higher, making sure she hadn't managed to wriggle out of her shackles (she hadn't) before nodding at a third guard to unlock the cell. He heaved her bodily out into the corridor with a grunt, stationing her in the middle of the pack. Torch-brawn-Jinx-brawn-torch. A felon sandwich with extra beef.

The procession started it's trek through the depths of the castle, not without "minor" physical harm to Jinx's person. Facial Hair was positioned behind her, and he apparently took great joy in shoving people forward to make them stumble. God, she hated knights and nobles. At least street people were cruel for reasons other than to show off their dick sizes.

They had to have kept her down there for longer than she realized; as they approached the stairs up to the throne room, the light leaking through the arrow slits seemed too pure to be real.

Which only made the throne room more breathtaking; the room was flooded with natural light, and the back wall had a stained glass window the likes of which Jinx's had only seen in chapels. Patches of colored sunlight dappled the flagstones. One of the past kings must have thought very highly of himself, or had been exceptionally pious. Or both. It didn't much matter to Jinx.

She didn't have much time to admire the sight before Facial Hair shoved her to her knees several paces from the throne. She looked into the face of the king, a man who had succeeded his father at what most considered too young an age. Still, not much else to do when a king is murdered but to replace him with his children. His face may have been handsome to some, but the stress and weariness of his years was impossible for Jinx to miss. His eyes regarded her with hard distaste.

"Ahem... 'Jinx,' Your Highness." The royal adviser went over the name again to make sure he read it right. "Jinx. Quite. Arrested for destruction of royal property, unlawful alchemy, evading capture, suspected conspiracy against the throne, and wanton murder."

Suspected conspiracy against the throne. Good one. Of course, anyone who bombed the storehouses, broke into the treasuries, and generally became a thorn in the side of nobles was "conspiring against the throne."

King Jarvan was like a statue, spine ramrod-straight, not a muscle moving in his face. A few of the nobles attending court murmured among themselves as Jinx's list of crimes was rattled off. The circus was in town, and she was the main attraction.

"I don't suppose you have anything to say for yourself after killing my people?" The king had one of those voices that naturally carried. The words boomed around the chamber without him having to try. Or maybe the room just had really good acoustics. Jinx shrugged in response. "Nothing? The slaughter of my subjects was _nothing_ to you?"

"Collateral damage," Jinx offered dryly. Explosions were fun. Fire was fun. Projectiles were fun. If people got hurt in the crossfire and mayhem, it didn't mean much to her.

One of the nobles - good gods, his pauldrons had to be compensating for something - couldn't seem to hold his tongue. "Collateral damage? This is the once chance you have to plead your case, and you choose to tell His Highness that your string of murders were _collateral damage?"_

She couldn't help but grin. "I'm here for a good time, not a long time."

"I've heard enough." The king held a hand up to silence whatever Pauldrons had to say next. He didn't look happy about it, but he bit his tongue and stepped back to his position to the right of his royal highness. "For your crimes against my lands, my property, and my people, you--"

"Stop!" a voice cut off the king, which sent a ripple of outrage through the onlookers. A woman, with hair so light you could have convinced Jinx it'd been spun out of sunbeams, marched from her position beside Pauldrons and took a knee in front of Jarvan. "My King, if I may."

"What is the meaning of this?" Pauldrons demanded, face pulled inward like he'd just eaten a lemon whole. Sunbeam didn't reply; she knelt, head down, waiting for the King's answer.

"Speak, Lady Luxanna Crownguard." He had said her name for the court's benefit, and not Jinx's, apparently. Scattered "ooh"s and "aahs" peppered the room.

"My King." From where Jinx was, she could see the girl take in a shaky breath. She did not look up as she spoke. "My King, as I am but an agent of The Goddess, may I be her mouthpiece, and may her will be spoken through me; we beseech you to spare this girl."

Outrage. The room erupted into outrage. Chaos. Madness. Had Jinx known this much turmoil could be wrought with just a few words, she would have gone into politics. Eh, probably not.

Pauldrons had marched up to the king, face ruddy, and was leaning in to be heard. Jarvan didn't look at him, but instead, his eyes searched Luxanna's, as she had raised her fact to look to him. He didn't like whatever it was he found.

"Enough," he commanded over the din. He slammed the butt of his staff (or was it a spear?) against the floor for good measure. Reluctantly, the crowd quieted. "Lady Crownguard, what is the meaning of this?"

Sunbeam stood. "King Jarvan." She then turned to the rest of the room. "We have been given a resource. Noxus is an ever-constant, ever-growing threat. Their information is well-guarded, and it's difficult to predict their next moves. We must be prepared. This girl," she gestured to Jinx without looking at her, "has used methods we've never seen before. She's proven her caliber as an alchemist and a strategist. We believe it wasteful to discard of her."

Jinx sat forward, intrigued. This girl was smarter than she looked. She had to win the approval of the court, or they would revolt against her. Or perhaps, even the king. Even if this was "the will of the Goddess," (which had to be horseshit, of course, no God or Goddess in all nine heavens would spare Jinx,) this was manipulation of lords, ladies, dukes, duchesses, the level of which Jinx could only dream of.

Luxanna turned back to the king. "We propose she serve the Crown in lieu of wasting her life for the immediate satisfaction of her death."

Jarvan looked past his agent of the Goddess or whatever and stared into Jinx's soul with steely eyes. In spite of, or perhaps because of, his early inheritance, he'd mastered the "I am a lion and you are a worm under my foot" look. It dared Jinx to run her mouth, but she found her throat too dry to speak.

"The Goddess has vouched for your worth." It looked like the words burned his mouth. "Your life is forfeit. You will serve as my alchemist of war. You will be housed within these walls, forbidden to leave. Your safety will be ensured, and you will be fed, clothed, and sheltered, as the Goddess would will.

Jinx waited for another bout of rage from the peanut gallery. But none came. They were waiting with baited breath to see what her reaction would be. Panic rose in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! She wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, to be remembered forever as a natural force of destruction. Not as the king's alchemist!

Jarvan turned his attention back to Luxanna. "She is your charge," he said simply, with a finality that left no room for protest. Jinx couldn't see her face, but her posture shifted dramatically, as though she'd been turned to stone.

"Yes, your highness." Her voice was emotionless. Oh boy.

The king nodded, and Jinx was hauled to her feet by Scar Face. Gods, she'd forgotten all about the guards who had escorted her here. Would she live down in the dungeons now, expected to fiddle away making fire flasks until the end of time?

The parade reformed, this time with Lady Sunshine at the head. She exchanged a few words with a serving girl, none of which Jinx caught. The girl bowed quickly before hurrying off. The group then began to move with all the cheer of a funeral procession. 

To Jinx's amazement, they didn't descend back into the darkness. Instead, Jinx was lead up flights of stairs and through lengths of corridors - so many she was sure she'd get lost if she even tried to find an escape route. Even the under city's roads weren't this convoluted. Maybe if she could map it out on paper...

They stopped in front of a chamber whose door was already open; two chambermaids scurried about, clearly put off by having to make a room ready in such a short amount of time. Not that it mattered - even as half-made as it was, Jinx couldn't help but look around the room slack-jawed. The bed - a luxury in and of itself for her - was enormous. At least two of her could fit on it, and its length promised that her feet wouldn't hang off the end despite her height. There was a table with a drawer on each side of the bed. There were no windows, but lamps hung around the room, and though there was no flame inside, they glowed. A chest of drawers proudly stood against one wall, and atop it, a looking glass held upright by a wooden frame.

"Your room," Luxanna's voice was curt. "I suspect a workshop will be prepared for you as well. Until I can get a get the proper permissions for a schedule for you--"

"A _schedule?"_ Jinx interjected, but the woman plowed on as though she hadn't spoken.

"--you are to remain in this room. I'll see that your meals will be brought to you. We will have guards posted outside your door should you need for anything. Female guards," she amended, almost sheepish. As though such things mattered to Jinx. "You will also be assigned a maid. For the time being." And what the hell was Jinx going to use a maid for? "You will excuse me," was all that was left in her little monologue before she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her before Jinx could ask any questions.

As if Jinx would have known which one to ask first.


	2. In Bloom

Jinx had decided that being cooped up in her room all day was getting old.

She hardly saw anyone. Her chambermaid and other staff members spent as little time as possible in her presence. Which was fair - who wants to spend time with a murderer, bomber, and "unlawful alchemist"?

She had to scoff at that. Almost _all_ alchemy was "unlawful" in Demacia. Just because alchemists could make the same things in bottles that mages could in their hands, it was seen as some kind of magic. And most _magic_ was unlawful in Demacia, unless it was a "divine right." Which this Luxanna girl was the first she'd ever seen with "divine right magic." Or she assumed that's what it was.

Luxanna had been even more scarce than the staff. She'd come in one a day so far, basically to tell Jinx "your study is not yet fully ready" without looking her in the eye, and then to excuse herself in a great hurry. The goddess may have taken a shine to Jinx, but that feeling sure didn't extend to her agent.

By the fifth day, she was going stir crazy. Somehow, this was worse than rotting away in a cell. At least in a cell, there was no promise of "in days to come" or "as long as you're useful." With nothing better to do, she started going over every inch of the room for secrets.

There were no windows. She'd noticed this on her second day, and had been keeping track of the passage of time by the servants who came in with her meals. (Amazingly, they were hot, and not gruel, and also delicious.) The walls were all stone, and none immediately screamed "I'm fake! I lead to a secret passage! I'm hiding a stash of something behind me!" The dresser had no false bottoms in the drawers, and after the first night, were swiftly filled with underclothes, tunics, and breeches (at Jinx's insistence - not only did she hate skirts, but loose clothing was a liability in a lab. The servants were none to happy to have to play telephone with the tailors for her.) The looking glass seemed to be just that - a looking glass. Even if it were magicked somehow, she would have had no way of telling.

The bed was so high off the ground she could fit under it, but just barely. And if she kept eating as well as she was being fed, who knew how long she'd be able to wriggle under the frame? For now, it was a hiding spot in a pinch, she supposed. There was nothing but her and the thick layer of dust underneath, and the floor felt solid beneath her as she crawled around to investigate.

The floor in the rest of the room was much the same, aside from the dust - no trap doors, no loose boards, nothing unusual. Even under the large rug that covered from the foot of her bed to the dresser, which was the most suspicious thing in the room. Nothing.

So she'd taken to her old pastime - kicking the stone walls with purpose. The only thing that accomplished was one of her guards opening the door to tell her to knock it off. She hadn't gotten all the way around the room, but she'd decided Demacians were way too boring to actually hide any secret tunnels or hidey-holes or anything else. Figured.

She wasn't allowed out of her room without supervision of her two guards, either. Well, that was better than going stir crazy, she guessed.

Jinx poked her head out the door, much to the surprise of her guards. They both straightened with a start, as though she'd caught them in the middle of something. She didn't wait for an explanation; she probably wasn't going to get one.

"Hey. Where all am I allowed to go? Or, we. Whatever."

A moment of hesitation. "Lady Crownguard's instructions were-" The one on the left, whose brown hair was cropped tight against her face, elbowed the speaker in the ribs. "Ow."

"The King has ordered you to stay within the castle grounds," Elbow's tone was firm, and may have even been intimidating if it didn't sound like it belonged to a sixteen-year-old. "You do, however, have permission to go where you please, provided we accompany you."

Jinx leaned against the doorframe. "Oh really. And what did Crownguard say?"

Elbow shot the other girl a look, and Jinx took a moment to appraise the both of them. Young, both of them. Barely twenty, if she had to guess. Elbow's face was more angular, lending her to a more mature look, but the other girl had a roundness to her cheeks and a healthy dusting of freckles, making her look even more childlike. 

Babyface at least had the forethought to look sheepish, but when Elbow didn't cover for her, she spoke. "Lady Crownguard said she is the only one who may excuse you from your room until further notice."

Jinx felt her eyebrows shoot up so far, they may as well have become part of her hairline. "She did, huh? How sweet of her." Her eyes flicked back to Elbow, whose mouth was drawn into a thin line. Jinx cocked her head in curiosity.

"I do not serve the Crownguards. I serve King Lightshield." Her voice was low, almost muttering. A grin split Jinx's face.

"Well said! And that's exactly what I've been told I have to do, too." She stood up straight and rocked back and forth on her heels. "I can't really do that stuck in here, right? So why don't you show me around a bit, help me figure out where everything is...?" she trailed off, motioning to Elbow.

"Ciril Bright."

"Ciril, then. Let's have the grand tour, yeah?"

Ciril's face didn't change as she nodded, motioning for Babyface to follow behind Jinx she took point.

"I'm Ophelia Greenleaf!" Babyface offered as they started off down the corridor.

"Cool," Jinx replied, even though she hadn't asked.

* * *

Even with the tour, Jinx was certain she'd have to get around with her guards forever. The whole place felt like a labyrinth. You wouldn't know it by the way Ciril navigated, though. It seemed like it was as natural to her as breathing.

The tour itself was fairly brisk. They didn't really stop, they kind of just breezed past rooms while Ciril pointed them out. "Kitchens. Servant's quarters. Washroom."

Occasionally Ophelia would chirp a hello from behind them when they passed someone along the way. Then she'd offer up their name once they were out of earshot for Jinx's benefit. Their names fell out of her brain as soon as she heard them.

It became apparent to her that rich people had no idea how to spend their money, so they built rooms. Stupid rooms. Frivolous rooms. How many ballrooms did one castle really _need?_ How many music rooms? How many sitting parlors? Why were the music rooms and the sitting parlors different? Why do you even need a sitting parlor in the first place? 

The only exceptionally-noble-owned place she enjoyed was the gardens. They stepped out into the courtyard, and Ophelia ran headlong into Jinx, who had stopped dead in her tracks. The two fell, ungraciously, to the cobblestone.

"Ophelia." Ciril's voice was hard as she turned on a heel to face the girls. "What are you doing?"

"I was walking. You alright, uh... Jinx?" she held the name in her mouth like it was a new food and she wasn't sure if she liked the taste or not. Jinx hardly noticed. Her eyes were wide, taking in everything she could around her.

When you lived a life of crime, you were afforded very little "usual" beauty. Not that an expansive garden was "usual" for anyone but nobles, but Jinx's once-partner-in-crime had little patience for plants that didn't serve an immediate purpose. Like the rows and rows of rosebushes that lined the walkways, or the climbing ivy that graced the trellises, or the lotuses that floated gently at the rim of the fountain.

And the sun. Most of what Jinx did was in the dark of the night, and even more was done in the shadows. It was a beautiful day, and the sun was warm, and bright, and beautiful. She sat, soaking up every ray of light she could.

"Hey." Ciril nudged her with a foot after a minute. "Hey."

"I'm fine," Jinx said, finally registering that Ophelia had asked her a question. She stood and dusted herself off. "Just floored by how nobles spend tax money."

"This garden was actually started by King Jarvan II as a courting gift for who would later be the queen!" Ophelia stood, face lighting up.

"And how did _he_ fund it?"

Ciril rolled her eyes. "Let's keep moving." She began moving back towards the big wooden doors that lead inside, and Ophelia whined.

"Oh, come now, Ciril! Let's stay out a bit longer, please? Surely you're as tired of seeing the castle walls as I am!"

"Shift change is soon. If they get there before we do, with the room empty, what do you think they'll assume?" She crossed her arms and tapped a finger on her wrist brace impatiently. Jinx considered backing up Ophelia - the last thing she wanted was to be shut back up in her room. But if (no, not if, _when,)_ word got out that Jinx the Terror had a soft spot for flowers, her life was over.

"They'll think she's finally started working in her lab, or something!" The girl's eyes widened, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Jinx followed her gaze to the door, where Lady Crownguard herself stood, face pale but eyes hard.

It didn't take long for Jinx to connect the dots. An eerie, sinister laugh ripped from her lips.

"Say, Ciril," she managed between giggles, "I think I'd like our last stop to be my lab. We can go back after that."

Ciril didn't look at Jinx when she responded. Her eyes locked with Luxanna's, tension mounting in the air between them. "Follow me, then."

* * *

Luxanna graced them with her presence as they marched up what seemed to be a never-ending staircase. No one said anything, but the mood between the nobles was almost somber. Luxanna and Ciril's energy was so intense, Jinx could practically see sparks in the air between them. And Ophelia tried to put on a strong face, but she seeped worry.

Jinx's laughter peppered the silence.

The stairs finally reached a landing, proudly displaying a thick wooden door, reinforced with bands of steel. It was clearly meant to help keep it in one piece if something went awry inside, but really, how many accidental blasts could it withstand before splintering? How many purposeful ones?

No one moved on the landing. It was like everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first move.

"Oh, come on." Jinx shoved ahead of Ciril, who drew a knife but didn't stop the convict. She just looked on as Jinx threw her weight against the heavy door and barreled into the workshop.

The room itself was circular and, like most of the rooms they visited today, huge. It was at least three times the size of the workshop Jinx had shared with her two partners in crime. Cabinets lined the walls, glass panes in the front boasting their contents; flasks of liquids with fading labels, jars of dried herbs and various minerals, packets of powders, tools of the trade, all organized immaculately. Well, that was going to be the first thing to change. She'd never find anything like this.

A large worktable sat in the middle of the room, empty and clean. It didn't look new, but it definitely hadn't seen hard work before. Devoid of stains, burn marks, splash damage, failed experiments. Definitely wouldn't last.

The odd little lanterns that lit Jinx's room were present here, but there were also small, glass-less windows, barely larger than arrow slits. Thank the gods. Every once in a while it was fun to get high off the fumes of her creations, but it made for a lousy work environment. Near one of the windows, a desk was surrounded by bookshelves filled with journals, reference books, candles, writing utensils... it hadn't occurred to her that she was expected to keep records of her work. That dulled the edge of her excitement a touch. She pushed it out of her mind; that was a problem for later.

She turned back to Luxanna, a shit-eating grin splitting her face. "Looks pretty ready to me. What's missing?"

The noble tried not to look uncomfortable about being caught in her own lie. "There are a few more items for your stores that we're waiting on, and --"

"Well, that's horseshit," Jinx decided aloud, waving her explanation away. She pointed to Ophelia, who flinched. "You, go wait for your shift change at my room and tell them I'm here."

"Hold on!" Lady Lairpants crossed her arms and planted herself firmly in the doorway. "Your schedule's final draft hasn't been approved yet, you can't just go waltzing off where you please! You've seen your study, now return to your room until I--"

Jinx held up a hand to the girl and looked past her. "Ciril. Whose orders do you follow, again?"

Ciril stood up a bit straighter. "King Jarvan's."

"Did His Royal Highness command that I be kept in my room until a Crowngaurd said it was okay?"

"Absolutely not. His Highness expects expedient work on your war alchemy, to be ready if, and when, Noxus launches an attack on us."

Jinx looked back to Lady Liarpants, who looked like she'd swallowed a lemon whole. "We should probably go over that little "schedule" of yours to make sure I don't hate it and 'waltz off where I please.' After all, I'm your charge."


End file.
